


The Sons of Coul

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: Avengers movie - fandom, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: BAMF!Coulson, Get Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Phil is awkward, Secret Identity, Twins, there are feelings and everyone is confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint had been feeling confused about the mixed signals he kept getting from Agent Phil Coulson. It never occurred to him that maybe it was because there were two Coulsons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sons of Coul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CeliaEquus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeliaEquus/gifts).



> Guys, this is the _3rd draft!_ I got stuck on the first draft, so then I tried writing something similar from Coulson's POV instead. I wrote 2500 words of that, and then couldn't be bothered writing any more. So I went back to the first draft, and realised that the plot was great, but the writing itself was bad and I needed to completely rewrite it - hence the third draft.
> 
> And then, like two days ago, I found a [great fic ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/743296) that basically has the same plot as this one. I decided to finish my fic anyway though, because I've just read three Coulson-brings-Clint-as-his-pretend-boyfriend-to-a-family-event-and-then-they-get-together-for-real fics and loved all of them, so clearly you can have more than one fic with a particular plot and they will still be awesome.
> 
> This was written for [this avengerkink prompt.](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/15292.html?thread=32794300)

**The Sons of Coul**

The thing about Agent Philip J. Coulson was that sometimes, it was like he was two different people. So much so, that Clint had even separated them in his head and given them names.

Coulson was cool, composed, and always professional, and second only to Directory Fury in badassery. He didn’t tolerate any fooling around, possessed a scary level of focus, and occasionally let out one-word expletives in a flat, calm voice when things went completely FUBAR. 

Phil, on the other hand, was Coulson without that intense reserve. He was a lot more personable, as far as Clint was concerned. He had a smart-ass streak (often indulged with a deadpan delivery that confused the junior agents, but made Clint snicker) and was politely friendly. Where Coulson was succinct and impersonal, Phil was the side of him that was more, well human.

Whether Clint was dealing with the more sociable Phil or the coolly professional Coulson, Agent Coulson was always competent and efficient, and the best handler Clint had ever had. Phil, though…

Honestly, the appearance of Phil always inspired less-than-professional feelings in Clint.

He couldn’t help it. When Phil indulged in playful banter, or gave Clint that warm look that made his eyes crinkle around the edges, Clint always felt a ridiculous swell of affection. Or when he caught Phil being goofy over the Captain America memorabilia collection most people had no idea existed. Or when Phil was doing the small-talk thing, and said something awkward, and then tried to backtrack with a vaguely pained look on his face. All of it, Clint found weirdly endearing.

To break it down: Clint had stupid crush feelings for his handler, and no idea what to do with them. It was possibly the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him.

* * *

“He is not the same person,” Natasha said, the first time she saw Phil being awkward (somehow, Phil seemed never to have learned that you should _never ever_ ask a woman if she’s planning to take maternity leave unless she’s actually told you for certain that she is pregnant). “I refuse to believe it.”

Clint grinned.

“Nah, he’s just like that. Sometimes he’s all professional, cooler than an iceberg, and other times _this_ happens.” He gestured at Phil, who was trying to defuse the fuming (non-pregnant) woman with little success.

“Hmm,” said Natasha, eyeing Phil thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t mean –” Phil started to assure the non-pregnant woman.

“He wouldn’t have made that mistake if you hadn’t let yourself get fat,” Natasha interrupted as she walked past, not even glancing at them.

The non-pregnant woman gasped in outrage and glared at Natasha’s retreating back, and Clint grabbed Phil’s arm and tugged his handler away while her attention was diverted. They escaped down the hallway.

“I seriously can’t believe you said that,” Clint told Phil, when they were out of sight and hearing distance. _Never assume a woman is pregnant until she says so_ was like, the number one rule of dealing with women.

Phil smiled ruefully.

“Occasionally I regress to my teenage lack of social skills. It’s embarrassing when that happens.” He straightened his tie and blanked his expression, although his eyes were still warm. “Thanks for the save.”

“Not a problem, sir,” Clint told him, grinning.

* * *

The really sad thing was that sometimes Clint thought that maybe Phil had feelings for him too. What the hell Coulson thought you never had any idea, but Phil was another matter. And Phil clearly liked him. He smiled and always asked how Clint was doing, and sometimes when Clint said something sarcastic or smart-assed he looked amused instead of telling him off – it was fairly well-known among SHIELD personnel that Clint was the only one ever allowed to mouth off over the comms during a mission without reprimand.

The evidence that Phil might not just like him but was also _attracted_ to him was a little more ambiguous, but Clint had noticed stuff, and didn’t think it was just wishful thinking on his part.

* * *

“Man, that’s a lot of paperwork, boss,” Clint sympathised, staring at the pile. And he thought _he’d_ had a lot of paperwork to fill out. “Like, enough for two of you. Do you have a secret clone who does half your work, or something? Because I don’t know how else you get all that shit done.”

For a weird moment, Phil’s expression wobbled between vague, incredulous alarm and ironic humour, before it balanced out into a look of tired amusement. Clint had no idea what that was about. Before he could puzzle over it, Phil responded.

“I’m sure my life would be easier if there were two of me.” He looked like he wanted to laugh. “But if SHIELD does have that sort of cloning technology, Fury is keeping it close to his chest.”

“One-eyed bastard,” Clint agreed, and Phil did laugh, at that. The sound made Clint swallow, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Don’t you have some paperwork of your own, Clint?” Phil asked pointedly, but he was smiling, his eyes warm and crinkling around the edges.

It was a potent smile. Clint couldn’t help the bloom of feeling in his chest, and ended up perched on the edge of Phil’s desk instead of leaving. He ignored the little voice that said _get off the desk this is a bad idea._

“Seriously, boss, you want me to get you a coffee or something?” Clint offered. “I don’t know how you’re going to get all that done by tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll manage,” Phil assured Clint mildly, but he was still smiling. There was a long quiet moment where neither of them moved, and there wasn’t _tension_ exactly, but Clint didn’t want to break Phil's gaze and he was suddenly conscious that if he leaned back just a _little,_ and tilted his head – 

Phil cleared his throat hastily and glanced down at his paperwork, cheeks pinking faintly.

“That coffee would be appreciated.”

“Right,” said Clint. “I’ll just… go get it.”

* * *

Clint thought, a lot, about asking Phil out. It wasn’t exactly within SHIELD protocol, but it wasn’t exactly _against_ SHIELD protocol, either. Clint didn’t care too much about that, but he wasn’t sure whether Phil would. While Phil sometimes turned a blind eye to someone bending the rules, he usually came down pretty hard on anyone who outright broke them. It made Clint hesitant about asking him on a date.

Besides, Clint was self-aware enough to know that he was reasonably good-looking, but that was about all he had going for him, relationship-wise. Clint wasn’t really good with people, and his shitty home life had ruined him for normal healthy relationships, not to mention given him a boatload of issues. Emotionally he was a mess, with almost no experience of relationships that actually _worked_. 

Still, his feelings for Phil had never gone away in all the years they’d worked together, and Clint figured he might as well give himself a chance. Sure, Phil might to shoot him down, but who knew – miracles happened, right? And Phil hadn’t exactly been aloof, all those times Clint had felt a spark of something less-than-professional between them.

Clint had just about worked up the nerve to find out if Phil wanted to grab a coffee sometime, when they were sent to Puente Antiguo.

* * *

“So, boss, where we headed?” Clint asked.

“Puente Antiguo, New Mexico,” Clint’s handler said briskly. Clearly he was in a Coulson mood today. That was okay. Clint might prefer less-reserved Phil, but professional, focused Coulson was still someone he liked to be around.

Clint opened the file sitting on Coulson’s desk and read it.

“ _A large stone hammer, potentially alien in origin,_ ” he read aloud. “Seriously?”

“Apparently.”

“Aliens. Cool.” He’d wait until after the mission, Clint decided, and Phil Coulson was in a Phil mood again, and then just casually ask if Phil wanted to go for coffee some time.

Clint got the strong feeling that Coulson would have rolled his eyes at Clint’s response, if it hadn’t meant expressing an emotion.

“Glad you think so. Be ready to move out in an hour.”

“Later, sir,” Clint said cheerfully, closing the file to take with him and starting towards the door. As he did a glint of metal caught his eye when Coulson moved, and Clint turned his head to follow it.

Coulson was wearing a gold band around his ring finger.

Clint couldn’t have been staring for more than a second or two, or Coulson would have noticed, but it felt like an eternity.

Normal time resumed as Clint shook himself free of his moment of shock. He turned and left Coulson’s office, trying to keep his face from showing anything out of the ordinary, his stomach churning.

* * *

When he saw Coulson in Puente Antiguo the next day, the wedding ring was gone.

Of course it was. Everyone knew it was a bad idea to get too attached to anyone in this business – a vulnerable partner was a valuable source of leverage. Anyone with sense would hide that sort of connection. Coulson must have left the ring on by accident, and taken it off the minute he realised he was wearing it.

Clint wondered desperately what he’d gotten wrong. Maybe he’d read too much into Phil’s behaviour: it was common enough to feel attraction to someone, but attraction didn’t necessarily _mean_ anything, or guarantee that you had any intention of acting on it.

Or maybe he hadn’t misread anything, Clint thought wretchedly, as a darker thought occurred to him. Plenty of guys kept a girlfriend or boyfriend on the side, especially if they were away from home a lot. Phil Coulson really didn’t seem the type, but who the hell really knew.

Whatever had happened, Clint had to know the truth. As soon as he had the chance to get Coulson alone, he was going to ask about the damn ring.

* * *

It took a couple of days before Clint had the opportunity to talk to Coulson. Things were busy, and half the time Clint was off tailing people, but finally there was a moment when the crazy blonde dude was off with the lady scientist and someone else was tailing them and Clint found himself alone with Coulson in one of the vans.

Coulson’s mind was clearly on the mission as he frowned down at a report, but Clint figured he wasn’t likely to get another chance to ask before the end of the mission. Clint had an instinct for trouble, and things felt like they were about to heat up – if he didn’t find out what was going on before the shit hit the fan, Clint was going to go crazy.

“So,” Clint said quietly. “I noticed the wedding ring.”

For maybe half a second, Coulson looked like he wanted to kick himself before his expression smoothed over, which didn’t look good. Clint might not have the most dignity or self-esteem, but he had at least enough self-respect not to be anyone’s bit on the side, and it looked like maybe his more depressing speculations had been right.

“It’s a prop,” Coulson said coolly, and Clint didn’t have to be a genius to know Coulson was lying, he just had to know Coulson really well. “I–”

“Right,” Clint interrupted, because he felt sick enough as it was without the excuses, “Sure. None of my business anyway, right?”

Coulson hesitated.

“Barton–”

“Later, boss,” Clint said hurriedly, and tried to leave.

“ _Barton_.” Coulson grabbed Clint’s arm firmly. Clint tensed.

“Sir–” he began as levelly as he could.

“No one knows I’m married,” Coulson said quietly. “Director’s orders. I’ve never forgotten to take the damn thing off before. I’m slipping. Maybe I should take a vacation once this mission is over.” He paused to search Clint’s face, and his expression was something Clint couldn’t read. “Barton… if I…”

“It’s fine.” The words tripped over themselves in their rush to get out, because if Coulson tried to apologise for accidentally leading Clint on he was going to scream. “I guess I – misread the situation.” He had to fight to keep his voice steady. “Please let go of my arm. Sir.”

Another unreadable, searching look, and Coulson’s grip on Clint’s arm vanished. Clint gave his handler a brief nod, and left the van without another word.

Well. At least Phil hadn’t been – yeah. It was nice to know Phil had at least that much respect for him after all, and wasn’t the kind of asshole who cheated. That was good to know too.

But there was a hollow ache in his chest, and Clint thought that maybe it was just as well, right now, that he wasn’t the kind of guy who was really in touch with his feelings.

* * *

After that, Clint firmly put aside any kind of romantic feelings he had for his handler. He was friendly enough, but never _friendly_. You know. No matter how the two of them bantered, even if Clint’s heart still occasionally somersaulted when Phil smiled warmly at him, Clint drew a line in his head and made damn sure he never crossed it. If it ever looked like the situation was about to move into potentially dangerous territory Clint shut the conversation down or moved away or whatever – anything to break the intimate mood. At first Phil’s eyes flickered with hastily-quashed hurt when it happened, but after the first couple of times Phil showed no reaction, and followed the same unspoken rules as Clint. 

Natasha gave them suspicious looks for awhile, but Clint did his best not to crack even under her most incisive stare, and Natasha let the issue drop. Time passed. Clint started to tell himself that Phil was just his handler and possible-friend. After a while, he even started to believe it.

And then, months later, Natasha gently told him that Phil had been killed on the Helicarrier, and Clint knew he’d only been fooling himself.

The only good thing about the situation was that it turned out that Phil wasn’t actually dead, after all. 

* * *

It was Stark who worked it out, digging through classified SHIELD files, and told everyone else. Clint tagged along with the rest of the Avengers as they steamrollered their way into the private room Phil Coulson had been installed in. He was badly-injured, not to mention a little loopy on the painkillers, but he was _alive._ Everyone else fussed over Phil and told him how glad they were that he’d pulled through after all, but Clint simply stood silently, unable to look away from the quiet happiness in Phil’s eyes as they met his.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” was all Phil said to him, and Clint nodded, too choked up to respond.

Eventually the other Avengers left, but Clint stayed behind.

“It’s cool, I’m just going to stay here a while longer,” he told the others and somehow Natasha managed to get them all out of the room without any awkward questions, until the only ones left were him and Phil. Clint dragged one of the visitor’s chairs right over next to Phil’s bed and sat on it.

Phil just lay there and smiled bashfully at him. Clint had so many feelings right now he couldn’t even name them.

“So,” Clint said into the silence. “How come your wife isn’t here sitting by your beside holding your hand?”

Phil’s brow crinkled, and he turned an adorably confused look on Clint.

“I don’t have a wife.”

“I saw the ring in New Mexico,” Clint reminded him, more tersely than he meant to.

“Oh, that wasn’t me, that was my brother.” The moment the words came out of his mouth Phil froze, an _oh shit_ look crossing his face.

Clint went very still. Forced himself to think that through.

“Coulson,” he said finally, “do you have a _twin?_ ” 

“No, of course not,” Phil responded, looking absurdly guilty. 

Clint took a deep breath, and leaned right forward in his chair to stare into Phil’s eyes.

“Phil. This is very important, and I need you to tell me the truth. Do you have an identical twin brother? One who’s married?”

Still looking guilty, Phil slowly nodded. Clint’s heart leaped.

“But you can’t-”

Clint cut Phil off by kissing him for all he was worth. He couldn’t even help it.

Part of him – a significant part of him – expected to be shoved away, but instead Phil’s mouth opened under his, welcoming the kiss.

When Clint pulled back, Phil looked pinkly delighted, and a little baffled.

“Fuck me. I can’t believe you’re a _twin_ ,” said Clint. It seemed obvious now, considering the way Agent Coulson had always alternated between cool professionalism and smart-assed friendliness. Clint had actually thought to himself that Phil Coulson was like _two different people,_ for God’s sake. Apparently he was really just that dense. “Wait, so is your name really Phil Coulson?” he asked.

“Kind of,” Phil replied, still beaming with a sort of bewildered pleasure that made Clint want to kiss him again. “I’m Philos. My brother is Phobos.”

“Seriously? Philos and Phobos? Man, you guys got shafted.”

Phil giggled, and holy shit, the sound should not have been so endearing.

“Where is your brother, anyway?” Clint asks after a moment’s silence. It should have been an awkward silence, but Phil’s smile was sort of dopey round the edges and not just from the drugs, and Clint himself wasn’t feeling much different.

Phil started to shrug and grimaced in pain, and Clint immediately reached out to put his hands on Phil’s shoulders and hold him in place.

“Jesus, sir, _stay still._ ”

“Ow,” Phil agreed ruefully. “I think he’s off doing what we normally do. But anonymously?”

“Agent Coulson is pretty good at anonymous, yeah, oh Jesus-” Clint’s breath hitched on a sob all of a sudden, and he buried his head in his hands and tried desperately not to cry as the impact of everything crashed down on him at once.

It took several minutes of careful breathing and willing himself to calm down before the spasms passed. Clint raised his head and looked back at Phil to see Phil watching him with a sort of dreamy concern, brows faintly furrowed.

“I am so fucking glad you’re not dead,” Clint blurted out. “And that you’re not married. I have been love with you for years, and I swear I can keep you and Coulson secret, but I can’t – I can’t not–” Clint broke off.

Phil smiled fondly at him.

“I’ll make Phobos sort it out,” he said, and reached out to pat Clint’s head. Which was kind of weird, but Phil was on drugs and anyway, Clint discovered he liked the way it felt to have Phil’s fingers in his hair. “And Fury owes us one. It’ll be fine.”

Clint breathed deeply, and straightened up again. Phil’s hand dropped from Clint’s head as he sat up, and Clint reached out to tangle his fingers with Phil’s.

“I love you too, you know,” said Phil, and Clint squeezed his hand and fervently hoped Phil understood.

* * *

The next day, Clint entered Phil’s hospital room and stopped short at the sight of two Phils. One was in the hospital bed like Clint had expected, fast asleep. The other was sitting in the chair next to the bed, not a hair out of place and wearing Coulson’s usual perfectly-pressed suit, surveying Clint with an inscrutable stare.

“Barton,” said Coulson, with a bland smile.

“So, I’m guessing Phobos, right?” Clint offered.

“Right,” Coulson agreed, still giving Clint that cool look. “You’re the first to know, besides Fury and my wife. Keep it that way.”

“Sure,” Clint agreed easily. It wasn’t like he couldn’t tell the two apart, now he knew. “Am I right in thinking that Phil is the nerdy one?”

To Clint’s complete surprise, Coulson _grinned_.

“Definitely. He’s the nerdy, awkward one. I’m sure you’ve already guessed that I’m the suave twin. The Captain America thing’s all him by the way, including that really sad speech he gave Captain Rogers about watching him when he was sleeping.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” a groggy voice asked.

Clint turned his head to see Phil blinking at them, still not 100% awake, but mostly aware.

“Never,” Coulson agreed. “It was a complete failure of social graces, even for you.”

“My favourite part was when he corrected himself with ‘present while you were unconscious,’ ” Clint chipped in, because that story had already made the rounds at SHIELD.

“You’re both horrible people,” Phil sighed, but ruined the effect by smiling foolishly at Clint.

Clint couldn’t help smiling idiotically back.

“Clint and I are together now,” Phil announced, poking Coulson’s arm. “You need to fix it with Fury, Phobe.”

Coulson sent Clint a measuring stare, and nodded.

“It should be doable. Don’t let my brother down, Barton.” Before Clint could answer him, Coulson glanced at his watch. “Speaking of Fury, I have a meeting in half an hour, so I should be on my way.” Coulson turned back to Phil as he got to his feet, and smirked. “I know you’re not up to doing much right now, but I’m sure you can find some way to take advantage of having a private room.”

Coulson nodded to Clint as he left, while Clint was still gaping at the innuendo.

Phil frowned at the door, looking aggrieved.

“Horrible.”

“Maybe,” Clint agreed, dropping down onto the chair Coulson had vacated, and smiling crookedly at him. “But he kind of had a good idea.”


End file.
